RECYCLED RUBBISH

Ahhh the horror re-make. For some reason the last ten years has seen virtually every decent (and not so decent) horror film remade or updated. Or re-booted, whatever the f*ck that means.

Sometimes it can work. Low budget originals can be enhanced by modern day production values. Some originals had a solid idea but didn't make the most of it at the time. I get it. Some things can be improved upon and I'm all for that. But it wasn't until I did a little bit of research that I understood the full extent of just how many there were. Remakes and sequels are the cancer within the horror genre at this moment in time.



That's not to say there isn't a wealth of great horror films being made right now, it's just that it's becoming harder to find them and harder to see them at your local cinema. The last few years have been particularly saturated with remakes. Check out some of these bad boys.

The Omen (2006), When a Stranger Calls (2006), Prom Night (2008), The Hills Have Eyes (2006), The Crazies (2010), Last House on the Left (2010), House of Wax (2005), The Eye (2008), Mirrors (2008), The Fog (2005), The Wicker Man (2006), The Thing (2011), The Hitcher (2007),Black Christmas (2006), Piranha (2011), Friday 13th (2009), A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Halloween (2007)



I wouldn't object if they were made to a high standard but that isn't the priority. It is, as is so often the case in life, all about money. I mean how many of the above are actually as good as or better than the originals? The Hills Have Eyes, The Crazies. Piranha 3d at a push maybe (and that is only because of Kelly Brook). It's all a lazy money making exercise. And boy do they make some money. The Ring and The Grudge both made over £100m at the box office. Even trash like Friday 13th took £65m. It seems that they guarantee bums on seats.



But they also tarnish the names of the originals they imitate. Rob Zombie trying to redo Halloween? Piss off. And leave Freddy Krueger alone while you are at it. I mean how long is it before they attempt to do an updated version of The Shining? Or The Exorcist? Oh no wait, they'll just do a shitty sequel instead.



And the sequel problem is just as rife too. Four Scream films, four Paranormal Activity films (even though I am a big fan of this series), five Final Destination films. I mean come on! But the series that symbolises this more than anything is the Saw series. I liked the original, I didn't even mind the next two. But Seven frigging films in seven years. Jesus Christ that's ridiculous. And they just got progressively worse. I mean it was literally a case of just making a carbon copy of the last film with different actors in. What's that? Jigsaw isn't dead and... oh god wait, there is a big twist at the end? I did not see that coming!



I understand that when a film is successful in the genre, they make the most of it by releasing follow up films. But it's just a shame that they don't attempt to make a decent film in the process. It sullies the good name of the original.

​

With so much remaking and updating going on you'd think that there is limited space for the original horror movie to announce itself. But thankfully the genre is alive and kicking in the US and in Europe. Films like Insidious and Paranormal Activity were both original and hugely profitable. Blair Witch shows what an original idea can achieve. And Europe seems to be the place where a lot of good ideas are at right now. Rec, Let The Right One In, Dead Snow, Inside. All evidence that France, Spain and Scandinavia are all at the forefront of the genre. Just don't expect to see any new additions at the cinema. Unless the Yanks decide to remake them that is.

RB

THE THIRD ACT TWIST

(Spoilers: Chernobyl Diaries/Wrong Turn/A Perfect Getaway/Switchblade Romance/Sixth Sense)



There was once a time when audiences could sit back and relax during the third act of a film. Inevitably the good guy would win and everyone would live happily ever after. Except the bad guy of course.

Horror films however have always challenged this formula. Films such as Black Christmas, The Wicker Man and Friday 13th made audiences very aware that not every ending would be a happy one.



Fast forward thirty years or so and the trend has increased in a big way. Ultimately, horror films are meant to make the audience feel unsettled and vulnerable. Their job is to be as unpredictable as possible, like a jack-in-the-box, ready to spring at any moment.



In fact, audiences now have come to expect a twist late in the third act. Generally speaking there are two types of twist. The climactic twist – which appears during the climax of the film or the resolution twist - which surfaces afterwards, during the resolution (obviously).



For instance, in Paranormal Activity 3, the twist is linked with the climax of the story. The family end up at Grandma’s house and the twist is when the father realises that Grandma is a witch. Twists this late rarely have a positive outcome. It  has occurred so late that our hero is usually unprepared to deal with it. This type of climactic twist can also be witnessed in Chernobyl Diaries when the military turn up and shoot one of the protagonists. It’s an unexpected obstacle, right at the end. It’s conflict but not in the shape/form we expected it.  Films with climactic twists rarely have happy endings.



Other films appear to have happy endings only to hit us with a sucker punch right at the end. The climax has led us to believe that all is well, the hero is alive and well and the antagonist is gone or dead. But we’re wrong. The bad guy is still alive and kicking. In many cases it is the final image which tells us that the good guy/girl isn’t out of the woods yet. These endings are popular purely because they leave the film open for a (potentially profitable) sequel.

Take Wrong Turn for example. The cannibals are all apparently killed at the climax of the film. Our heroic couple get away and all is well. Until the last scene. A cop examines a burnt out building and one of the cannibals, burnt but very much alive, kills him.



Lay the groundwork

Very often these twists come in the form of characters revealing themselves to be antagonistic. For the duration of the film we have been led to believe that a character is good when in fact they are the total opposite. These twists need to be managed very carefully and the groundwork needs to be covertly layered throughout the story. Otherwise the twist/reveal will feel forced/too convenient.



Take A Perfect Getaway for example. The twist is so difficult to comprehend that the filmmakers feel it necessary to show ten minutes worth of flashback scenes just to explain it. Most of this involves previously unseen scenes between the two leads. It ruins the pace and flow of the story but more importantly, it offends the audience (generally speaking) so much that they really don't care what happens from that point on.

​Switchblade Romance is another film that ultimately failed in its efforts to provide a shock twist ending. Here the main protagonist is revealed to have been the killer all along. Despite the audience seeing scenes where she is pursuing/fighting/hiding from the apparent killer. What the twist ultimately said was “you know 50% of the scenes we’ve shown already, well they were all the main characters imagination”. It’s not clever, it’s just confusing. This is a shame because up until this point, it was a very effective film. It’s a prime example of a writer adding a twist that was basically unnecessary.



Successful twists
The most successful twists are moments that have an emotional impact as well as being something that the audience can very quickly appreciate/understand. Sure most of them require a little montage of flashbacks to show key scenes in a new light, but audiences expect that (unless they’ve got a photographic memory).

Films that respect the audience and force the audience look at previous scenes in a new way, are much more successful than ones who duped us into believing a scene was real when in fact it was “imagined”. Because an audience cannot tell at the time whether a scene is real or imagined.

Take the Sixth Sense for example. The twist here is hugely successful. The revelation that Dr Crowe (Bruce Willis) is dead is a masterstroke because:
a) It provokes an emotional response. He is dead and he has only just realised it. Plus, there is no hope of ever reconciling with his wife.
b) It gives new meaning to his motives throughout the whole film. He cannot move on until he has helped Cole (Haley Joel Osment) and it contributes towards a fitting resolution.
c) It is a shock. Very few people will have seen this coming.
d) In retrospect, it makes logical  because we have seen Crowe interact with other characters during the film. But upon closer inspection, it appears we have been deceived.

But in a satisfying and intelligent way. Because the only person Crowe talks to in the film, apart from the introductory scene which is set before the rest of the story takes place, is Cole. And after all, he can see dead people.
The importance of the twist in the third act should not be underestimated. If you pull it off, it can elevate a film to greatness. If you fail, the audience will feel offended and will write off the film as in its entirety. You have been warned.sense.



THE MIDPOINT

I often read screenplays where the climax has not been properly thought through. The good guy defeats the bad guy (not always the case) but in such a way that it feels almost meaningless. Whatever the ending, whether it be positive (the hero succeeds) or negative (the hero fails) it marks the end of the arc of your central character. If your protagonist has learnt from their mistakes/overcome their failings, they will win. If they are still flawed/haven’t learnt their lesson(s) then they will lose.



The role the mid-point has to play in how to end your story shouldn’t be underestimated. If the midpoint is a high for the protagonist then the climax usually mirrors this. Likewise if the midpoint is a low, then the film ends on a low.



The midpoint also foreshadows the climax in a more literal sense. For instance, in Seven, the midpoint is where Somerset and Mills bust into John Doe’s apartment. Somerset tells Mills not to do it, but Mills cannot keep a check on his emotions and disregards the order. He kicks the door in. This is his weakness. His inability to control his emotions – and we see it throughout the film. The scene ends with Mills on his knees and John Doe holding a gun to his head.



The film climaxes in the desert where John Doe has Mills’ wife’s head delivered to them in a box. Doe then reveals that she was pregnant before she died. Doe is on his knees and Mills has a gun to his head – a complete reversal of the situation at the midpoint. Under normal circumstances we would want Mills to kill Doe but in a sense Mills has already lost. His family have been killed. Importantly Doe wants Mills to kill him to complete his set of murders. Somerset tries to talk him down, mirroring the midpoint. But Mills cannot harness his emotions and kills Doe, thus fulfilling his wish.



Another example can be found in The Dark Knight rises.  At the midpoint, Batman is set up by Selina Kyle and gets physically destroyed by Bane in a physical confrontation. Batman has met his match physically for the first time. At the climax of the film, these three characters meet again and the outcome is very different. Batman manages to exploit Bane’s weakness (his mask) and manages to defeat him in a fight. It is the culmination of everything Batman has learnt from the midpoint. Chiefly, that anger is not the solution. Fear is the solution. Fear of failing the city he loves and the people within it. The same fear he had of the bats when the story began in Batman Begins. Selina Kyle also completes her character arc by showing up out of the blue and killing Bane just as he is about to off Batman. She had a chance to leave but instead fought for the man she loves. Actions define character and it’s a redeeming action that shows her character growth since the midpoint.



The Matrix also links its midpoint to its climax effectively. At the midpoint Neo is told that he is “The One” by the Oracle. He doesn’t believe her. She also tells him that either he or Morpheus will die by the end. Trinity also has an exchange with The Oracle but she refuses to tell Neo what she was told. Flash forward to the climax and all of these ends are tied up. Neo is shot by an agent and dies. The prophecy has been fulfilled. But then Trinity reveals what The Oracle had told her. That she would fall in love with “The One”. Neo suddenly comes back to life. He finally believes. He then goes on to destroy the agents.

​

Although some writers choose not to focus too much on the mid-point, it can be a very effective plot point in a story. It is where the groundwork is laid down for the climax. Where you, the writer, set up the ending of your story. Ignore the midpoint at your peril.

RB

SEVEN: THE OPENING 5 MINUTES

People often say that the ending of a movie is the most important element. An average film with a spectacular finale will be remembered more fondly than a movie that is great for 90 minutes but sucks for the last five.

However, although this is one of the most important and difficult aspects to perfect, there are issues that need to be overcome right from the outset. Literally. For the first five minutes of a film are possibly the most vital to a screenwriter. An audience in the cinema may not walk out after a bad first five minutes, but anyone reading your screenplay will probably bin the thing if it is not done properly.



The opening five minutes needs to do several things. It needs to a) introduce us to the protagonist and their world. B) It needs to establish the genre and style of the film. C) It needs to be interesting enough for us to want to carry on watching. Also, from a writers perspective, it is a chance to show your talent – to make anyone reading the thing realise they are reading the work of someone who knows what they are doing. Because if you can’t convince them within the first five pages, they won’t read another 100 just to see if they were wrong in their initial assessment.



You have to watch bad movies to see what you need to avoid (and there are a lot of these around) and good movies to understand what works. Seven, starring Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman, definitely falls into the latter category. I have seen this film at least half a dozen times and it is one of those films where you cannot fail to see what a well-made and greatly scripted piece of work it is. Andrew Kevin Walker was 27 when he completed the screenplay in 1991, a quite astonishing feat for a writer of such a young age. It is interesting to note that the opening five minutes of the original draft are different to what ended up in the shooting script – content was removed and what we are left with is an efficient, concise and clever opening five minutes which sets up the story perfectly.

Black screen. The sound of sirens and street noise. The first thing we see is a man (Somerset) loading a sink up with dirty plates. A chess board in the foreground. It’s a rather unremarkable opening image but very much in keeping with the grounded reality of this character and the world he lives in.

We quickly cut to Somerset in his bedroom looking at himself glumly in the mirror, smartening his tie. We then see several items neatly laid out – a pen, a handkerchief, a police badge and a knife. He picks up the badge, the knife and then the pen. Finally, he removes a single hair off a jacket that is laid out on his bed before putting it on and turning out the light. We are forty seconds in, that’s barely a page in screenwriting terms and we have been given a wave of information.



We’ve been introduced to the protagonist and although we don’t know his name and he doesn’t actually say a word, we are told details about this man and who he is through visuals. A picture says a thousand words and in this case it’s almost true. We learn that he is a detective (through the badge and lack of police uniform) and the lack of other characters in the scene infers that he is a loner, with no family. Further to this we are given several hints to his personality. The chess board, the neatness and the routine of the way he gets ready for work, all point to someone who is meticulous, patient and a man of routine. Someone who pays attention to every detail. The sirens, police badge, knife and gun are all visual and audio references to the genre.



And if that doesn’t highlight the genre enough then the next image definitely does. A dead body covered in blood. It’s a crime scene. Something we are going to get used to seeing. Another detective describes witness accounts of what happened. We are learning this information at the same time as Somerset (who is examining the crime scene at this point). We instantly feel more involved with the scene. We are being given clues and information at the same time Somerset is. It engages the audience.

The detective describes the scene as a “crime of passion”. Somerset looks at a blood stain and sarcastically returns with “Yeah, look at that passion all over the walls”. His first line shows us his inclination to not commit to anything unless he is totally convinced and also a rather pessimistic world view. Somerset puts his glasses on and inspects a photo on a fridge. He asks the officer a question. “Did the kid see it?”. The officer dismisses him and mocks his question. He then says “we’re all gonna be real glad when we get rid of you Somerset. It’s always these questions with you. Who fucking cares if the kid saw it?”. One line, three bits of information. His name is Somerset, he is soon to leave his job and he is someone who is always questioning things, someone who is determined to get to the truth. None of this interaction feels forced either. And the foul mouthed detective who proudly displays his gun on his hip is a nice contrast to the gentile Somerset. We are just over a minute in and it’s worth noting that the dark, murky and oppressive style is already established at this point.



Then Brad Pitt turns up. He’s young, good looking and chewing gum and wearing a leather jacket. He introduces himself to Somerset as Detective Mills. So within his first 5 seconds on screen we know his name and his swaggering persona is hinted at. We cut to outside the building as they leave the crime scene. It’s raining – and this just adds to the grimy realism of the scene.  It rains a lot in this movie. Mills and Somerset have a brief chat. Somerset challenges Mills.  “You actually fought to get re-assigned here?” and Mills replies with “I just thought could do some good”. Somerset’s weathered realism is in stark contrast to Mills’ youthful optimism and vigour. A theme that runs throughout the film. A difference of ideals and only one will prove to be accurate by the end of the film.

Mills reveals that Somerset is quitting and Somerset tells him to “keep his eyes and ears open for the next seven days”. This is a challenge to both Mills and to the audience who will no doubt be rooting for Mills throughout the film. The seven days comment also sets up the format of the film – it’s broken down into seven days, each a chapter of the story as we will see in a minute. Mills tells Somerset that he isn’t a novice – he’s been in homicide for five years. A nice way of touching upon his past without showing us through flashback (or another clunky method). One line, that’s all it needs.



Three minutes in now and Somerset is reading in bed. He is alone. Confirmation that he is single and probably childless. He releases the swing arm of a metronome and it begins to tick like a clock. He closes his eyes and focuses on the sound, blocking out the street noise and raised voices. He quickly falls asleep. This little scene shows that Somerset somehow manages to cope amongst the madness. He can locate and focus on something even if the world around him tries to smother him.



Then the credits roll. Heavy, raw music plays over a montage of juddery, brief shots of what appear to be a serial killer cutting his fingerprints off his fingers, writing in a journal, collecting newspaper clippings etc. Another reminder of the genre and the dangers that await our protagonists.

​

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

​​Finish it

Actually finishing it is what I’m gonna put in as step one. You may laugh at this, but it’s true. I have so many friends who have written two-thirds of a screenplay, and then re-written it for about three years. Finishing a screenplay is first of all truly difficult, and secondly really liberating. Even if it’s not perfect, even if you know you’re gonna have to go back into it, type to the end. You have to have a little closure.



Structure

Structure means knowing where you’re going ; making sure you don’t meander about. Some great films have been made by meandering people, like Terrence Malick and Robert Altman, but it’s not as well done today and I don’t recommend it. I’m a structure nut. I actually make charts. Where are the jokes ? The thrills ? The romance ? Who knows what, and when ? You need these things to happen at the right times, and that’s what you build your structure around : the way you want your audience to feel. Charts, graphs, coloured pens, anything that means you don’t go in blind is useful.



Have something to say

This really should be number one. Even if you’re writing a Die Hard rip-off, have something to say about Die Hard rip-offs. The number of movies that are not about what they purport to be about is staggering. It’s rare, especially in genres, to find a movie with an idea and not just, ‘This’ll lead to many fine set-pieces’. The Island evolves into a car-chase movie, and the moments of joy are when they have clone moments and you say, ‘What does it feel like to be those guys ?’



Everybody has a reason to live

Everybody has a perspective. Everybody in your scene, including the thug flanking your bad guy, has a reason. They have their own voice, their own identity, their own history. If anyone speaks in such a way that they’re just setting up the next person’s lines, then you don’t get dialogue : you get soundbites. Not everybody has to be funny ; not everybody has to be cute ; not everybody has to be delightful, and not everybody has to speak, but if you don’t know who everybody is and why they’re there, why they’re feeling what they’re feeling and why they’re doing what they’re doing, then you’re in trouble.​

​

Cut what you love

Here’s one trick that I learned early on. If something isn’t working, if you have a story that you’ve built and it’s blocked and you can’t figure it out, take your favourite scene, or your very best idea or set-piece, and cut it. It’s brutal, but sometimes inevitable. That thing may find its way back in, but cutting it is usually an enormously freeing exercise.



Listen

When I’ve been hired as a script doctor, it’s usually because someone else can’t get it through to the next level. It’s true that writers are replaced when executives don’t know what else to do, and that’s terrible, but the fact of the matter is that for most of the screenplays I’ve worked on, I’ve been needed, whether or not I’ve been allowed to do anything good. Often someone’s just got locked, they’ve ossified, they’re so stuck in their heads that they can’t see the people around them. It’s very important to know when to stick to your guns, but it’s also very important to listen to absolutely everybody.

Track the audience mood

You have one goal : to connect with your audience. Therefore, you must track what your audience is feeling at all times. Think in terms of what audiences think. They go to the theatre, and they either notice that their butts are numb, or they don’t. If you’re doing your job right, they don’t. People think of studio test screenings as terrible, and that’s because a lot of studios are pretty stupid about it.



Write like a movie

Write the movie as much as you can. If something is lush and extensive, you can describe it glowingly ; if something isn’t that important, just get past it tersely. Let the read feel like the movie ; it does a lot of the work for you, for the director, and for the executives who go, ‘What will this be like when we put it on its feet ?



Don't listen

Having given the advice about listening, I have to give the opposite advice, because ultimately the best work comes when somebody’s fucked the system ; done the unexpected and let their own personal voice into the machine that is moviemaking. Choose your battles. You wouldn’t get Paul Thomas Anderson, or Wes Anderson, or any of these guys if all moviemaking was completely cookie-cutter.



Don't sell out

The first penny I ever earned, I saved. Then I made sure that I never had to take a job just because I needed to. I still needed jobs of course, but I was able to take ones that I loved. When I say that includes Waterworld, people scratch their heads, but it’s a wonderful idea for a movie. Anything can be good. Even Last Action Hero could’ve been good. There’s an idea somewhere in almost any movie : if you can find something that you love, then you can do it. If you can’t, it doesn’t matter how skilful you are : that’s called whoring.”

INTRODUCING YOUR PROTAGONIST

When an important character is introduced in a screenplay, it is an opportunity for the writer to give us the essence of who this person is and what they are like. However, most good screenplays are ruthlessly efficient when it comes to detail and description. We only have a limited number of pages to cram everything in, so long-winded paragraphs are to be avoided at all costs. The key is to keep it concise but original. Here are a few tips to tighten up those all important character descriptions.



Break the rules

Generally speaking, telling the reader anything in a screenplay that they cannot ascertain visually on screen is a big no-no. For example;



A figure sits at the bar. This is WILLIAM GERRITSON, 38. He's built like a boxer. William used to work as a security guard at the local bank until he got fired last month for assault.



How do we know he used to work as a security guard? How do we know he got fired last month? We may find this information out in the following scene through action and dialogue but lines like this are too specific. You cannot convey this information just through someone's physical appearance and demeanour.



However when introducing our main characters we are allowed to bend the rules a little bit. Check out the first time we meet the central protagonist from The Hills Haves Eyes remake.



Inside the trailer home, DOUG BUKOWSKI, 32, Lynne's husband, tries to fix the broken A/C.

His glasses and white Oxford shirt drenched in sweat, Doug is totally out of his element. This is a guy who has never been out of the city.



How do we know this just by looking at him? We don't. But we can probably guess by the way he looks, how he is dressed and the way the actor carries himself in the scene. It is a general statement on the type of person this is. And it is delivered neatly in one short sentence.



We are also given a bit of licence to detail one or two character traits. Personally I think that any decent screenwriter should be showing this information through action and dialogue but the thought behind this technique is that it helps the reader instantly establish a basic overview of who the character is. Check out the examples below from Scream...



A young girl of 17, sits, her face glued to the computer monitor in front of her. CLOSE ON her face. Sharp and clever with deep, lonely eyes.



...and Shutter Island.



This is CHUCK AULE.
Chuck is good-natured, quick with a smile or a joke; but beneath that easy going confidence there's a quick, sharp intelligence that doesn't miss a thing.



We arent told his/her life stories but we are given a summary of their key character traits.



​Give us an age but not a personal ad​
Character descriptions should rarely give us a detailed physical description of the character unless it is vital to the plot. If we are describing Darth Vader then it may a good idea to give more of a detailed idea of what he looks like but we do not need to know if a character has blue eyes or black hair. The best descriptions give us the basics. They tell us their general appearance but they do not give us specifics. However it is important to give the reader an idea of the age of the character, whether it be an exact number or a rough idea.

Look at the example below from The Ring



And now the door bangs open to reveal RACHEL KELLER, 27, a knockout in a dark suit. She drops her cellphone into her purse and smiles serenely at the boy.



We know her age and that she is good looking, smartly dressed and has a nice smile. That's enough. Who cares if she is blonde or 5ft 6inches tall? The reader will create their own image of what she looks like and it will be more satisfying than anything you could come up with in two lines of description.

​Be creative​
It's a good idea to try and make your description as punchy and as original as possible. Try and look for a different way of getting the basic information across. Most lead characters are attractive or pretty or handsome. But describing a character in the following way just feels flat and tired.

This is LUCY BAKER, 23. She is attractive and slim.

Yawn. She may be attractive and slim, there is nothing wrong with that, but try and say it in a more interesting way. It makes an introduction so much more memorable.
Check out the following introductions from Scream...

A young, strapping boy of seventeen. Handsome and alluring. A star quarterback/ class president type of guy. He sports a smile that could last for days.​

And from Fright Night

This is JERRY, 30's. Handsome to the point of devastating. An all American Adonis

Both of these are essentially describing good looking characters. But they give us more than that. A "star quarterback/class president" gives us an idea of what type of good looking this guy is. As does an "all American Adonis". They are nice visual lines and they give us a picture of what these people look like without giving us a detailed description. Give a snappy one-liner and let the reader do the hard work for you.

RB

10 HORROR CONCEPTS

​

Trapped

In so many horror movies, the concept of being imprisoned in an enclosed space with a monster is the movie. We see this in The Abyss, Alien, and Saw. What new place or situation can you put characters in which they are trapped? This is essentially taking one of the three building blocks of the Monster in the House movie and challenging yourself to come up with a new “house” for the heroes to be stuck in. Where have we not seen a MITH movie set yet? Example: A movie called Area 51: “Teens break into an abandoned government facility and discover it is haunted by the ghosts of aliens experimented on in the ‘70s who now seek revenge against all mankind.” ACTION STEP: Make a list of new “houses” to set a MITH.



Cursed

Another common starting point for horror movies is to concentrate on the curse aspect of the set-up, the classic example being all those Mummy movies where the explorers violate the warning label on the sarcophagus. This is essentially looking at another basic point of the MITH and saying: What new “sin” can I come up with to create a better movie idea? Example: In my movie Granny, the sin is any teenager who violates the rules of etiquette in the book Granny carries with her. Their “sin” is not knowing good manners. What other sins can we use as starting points: the seven deadly ones? What are we most guilty about today?

ACTION STEP: Make a list of new “sins” to incite a MITH.



Godzilla Lives

In the ‘50s, we created a whole slew of monsters from the A-Bomb and its testing. What new way to create a monster from our guilt today makes for an exercise dealing with the third aspect of a good MITH: the monster! What new monsters can be created? And maybe we can go “low tech” here, too. A zoo where experimentation is taking place might lead to a bunch of new killer zebras, penguins, or bears? Maybe it’s a run-down kennel or puppy mill, but this time, focus on the monster, not the how or the where. ACTION STEP: Make a list of new “monsters” to begin a MITH movie.



Torn from today's headlines

Many of the best movie ideas come from incidents right out of the newspaper that are fictionalized in films. This can be part of the creation of good horror films, too. Can we not, for instance, set a horror movie in the middle of the war in Iraq? What about using stories about the Space Shuttle, a Hurricane in the Deep South, a new advance in medicine, or a discovery of a new astronomical breakthrough as the basis of a new scary movie? Why not indeed! ACTION STEP: Start a clip file for horror. Print out from newspapers one story a week that can be the basis of a new horror movie and pitch it to friends.​

​

Inversion

For every horror film there is a comedy version, e.g. Scary Movie. But what if we start with a comedy and make it scary? ACTION STEP: Take Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guide, find the comedy section, and turn those films into scary movies. Can Wedding Crashers be made into a horror film? How about Wedding Crasher Zombies who eat the brains of wedding guests at events they were not invited to? How about 40-Year-Old Virgin? Why not 400-Year-Old Virgin Who Wants My Girlfriend?



The new coke!

This is a great exercise for any screenwriter and any creative thinker in today’s world of branding and marketing. Find a movie type (i.e., Vampire films) and figure out a way to do “The New One.” For this exercise it is best to find types of movies that are so old, so hackneyed, so “out” that we consider them dead, dead, dead. And actually vampire movies are a perfect example. Haven’t we seen every kind ever over the years? Well, where is the Sean of the Dead version? Ah-ha! Just saying that tells us there’s life in Dracula yet! ACTION STEP: Make a list of every bad monster film ever -- especially those that you think will NEVER be revived. Second, think of yourself as a branding expert. You’ve been called in to invigorate a product. How can you re-package it, revive it, find a twist that will bring the franchise back from the dead? What about The Mummy, Wolfman, Dracula, 

Creature from the Black Lagoon?

Zapped

A lot of horror movies involve transformation, e.g., The Fly. In essence, the man becomes the monster and is trapped in his own “house” due to the sin of trying to be God. Messing with the laws of nature is the common sin in these MITH movies, and the result is always baaaaaaaaaad! So let’s ask ourselves, what new way can an experimenting scientist transform himself into a monster? What other ways of dabbling with the dark side are there to summon up a transmutation that with one fell zap! can make a man into a monster? ACTION STEP: Make a list of “messing with nature” experiments and the resulting “thing” that comes from that, then create a sinful way for the scientists to regret their “lab rat.”



Sex and the single monster

Many times the heroine of a movie falls for a monster, e.g., King Kong. Even Dracula has this difficulty; it’s so hard to meet girls who only work at night! But if romance can be the basis of a good rom-com why not a horror film? Well, who is that girl or guy who can fall for “a monster”? Why not start with the “normal” one who is the hero of our movie and pair them off with their thematic opposite. ACTION STEP: Make a list of romantic leads, you can even borrow from classic love story movies, and pair them with a new “monster.” Who is it? And how do they transform?



Geographic my dear monster

Places. That’s what this exercise is about. What is it about the desert, the icy Antarctic, or the jungle, besides isolation, that makes for such wonderful horror films. Well, where’s yours set? ACTION STEP: Look at a map and find a place in the world to set a horror flick. How is a movie set in NYC different from one set in Mexico City or the suburbs of LA? How can you create a monster and a problem that is indigenous to the place, maybe tie it in to the ancient legends of that area. Isn’t a Navajo legend perfect for the Arizona setting? You can also think geographic “fish out of water” and bring the Navajo curse to the city with an exhibit at an urban museum. But start with place. What is it about the locale that is scary?



Social Commentary

Finally, what better way to come   up with a movie for a genre that is decidedly underrated than to lace your idea with deeper inner meaning or statement? Beneath the surface of many great horror films is decided social commentary, e.g., Invasion of the Body Snatchers as a metaphor for the Red Scare in the ‘50s or the John Carpenter movie, They Live, a tract on the Reagan ‘80s and the rise of the “Yuppie.” What do you want to get off your chest about the state of the world? Find a way to speak to the public at large by expressing yourself in the blood ‘n guts mayhem of a good B movie. ACTION STEP: Make a list of social, political, or theological points of view you wish to discuss. Now embody differing sides of the argument with characters who represent that point of view. Let’s see how creatively you can get on your soapbox to send a message without calling Western Union!



*Blake was a hugely successful author and screenwriter who sadly passed away in August 2009. There's a good chance that if you are interested in screenwriting then you probably know who he is and are familiar with his work. But nevertheless it's worth heading on over to www.blakesnyder.com for further articles and advice. *Blakesnyder.com have kindly given permission to use certain content from their site.